


nerve and consequence

by thankyouturtle



Category: Alias (Comics), DCU - Comicverse, Marvel (Comics), The Question (Comics)
Genre: Crossover, F/F, F/M, Femslash, Ficlet, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-22
Updated: 2012-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:45:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thankyouturtle/pseuds/thankyouturtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Question teams up with Jessica Jones and discovers it's not exactly the first time they've met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nerve and consequence

**Author's Note:**

> I might make this into an actual story some day.

Jessica Jones' apartment wasn't in the nicest part of town. That surprised Renee. She wasn't really big on cape gossip these days, but she'd always heard that Tony Stark kept the Avengers on a healthy pay-check. Maybe that was pure rumour. Maybe this Avengers team was different from the other. Maybe, she thought, watching the other woman under her lashes as she struggled to unlock the front door, Jessica Jones had refused the money. After that morning, she could believe Jessica Jones would not only cut off her nose to spite her face, but her ears and mouth as well.  
  
"Shit," said Jessica Jones, as the door swung open. "Fucking shit."  
  
The apartment was a mess. Some of the mess, like the half dozen cigarettes stubbed out in the kitchen sink, had probably already been there. But Renee couldn't imagine Jessica Jones ripping open her own sofa cushions, or leaving the fridge door wide open, or throwing her clean underwear liberally around the room.  
  
"H.Y.D.R.A.?" Renee asked.  
  
"Don't think this is their style," Jessica Jones said tersely, and then added " _Fuck_ ," for good measure.  
  
They both went through every room - not that there were many - to see if they could find anything to clue them in to who the perp might be. Renee figured the fact that the door was still locked and no windows broken narrowed the field considerably as it was. She did note, with interest, a photo of Luke Cage grinning widely while holding a small, chubby baby, and put it in the 'questions to ask later' basket. She also stared, for some time, at a painting on Jessica Jones' bedroom wall.  
  
It should have been fairly innocuous. It wasn't like hundreds of people didn't have prints of famous masterpieces on their walls. This one wasn't even framed, instead being tacked on, and the colour of the cheap wallpaper behind it was barely indistinguishable from the copy of "Violin and Candlestick" she was looking at. But there was something about it that grabbed her, something that reminded her of the smell of bourbon, her fingers curling in long brown hair as she spread her legs and moaned, and stared at a fake Cubist masterpiece on the wall of yet another stranger she'd let herself go home with.  
  
Had she and Jessica Jones...?  
  
Renee frowned beneath her mask. When she'd been that bad, when she'd been at the lowest of the low, she hadn't been to New York City. She'd remember that, right? There were plenty of nights - too many to count, if she was being honest - that she'd wake up alone in her own bed, sure she'd had sex with _someone_ during the night, with receipts from bars she'd never ever heard of stuffed into her pockets. But to travel to another city and home again - an eight hour trip - and not remember a thing of it?  
  
"Fuck," came Jessica Jones' voice again, and Renee winced. Because now she had a very definite memory of sucking someone's breasts as they swore, just like that, and now she had a head absolutely full of questions she didn't want answers to.


End file.
